


A Soft Place To Fall

by WindySuspirations



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Confident Cullen Rutherford, Cullen Smut, Dark Cullen Rutherford, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Heterosexual Sex, Lyrium Addiction, Lyrium Withdrawal, POV Cullen Rutherford, Rough Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 03:50:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12313209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindySuspirations/pseuds/WindySuspirations
Summary: She's always so ready for him. For whatever he wants. That’s why he knows that he can just show up here on nights when the call of that damn lyrium syringe has wrapped around his mind like a snake and is squeezing until he’s shivering with it.





	A Soft Place To Fall

**Author's Note:**

> "Daylight has found me here again  
> You can ask me anything, but where I've been  
> Things that used to matter seem so small..."
> 
> Right now, my Cullen playlist is filled with angsty songs, so I felt like writing something angsty and sexy. I wanted to make this angsty, hot, and with an edge. I don't know if I succeeded. Please let me know in the comments. Kudos and comments are love and encourage me to continue creating.

He stands in front of her apartment door, already hard and wanting. He needs her — now —  if she doesn’t fucking answer her door soon, he’ll  break it down. That’s the state he’s in, his body coiled tight with tension and slavering lust. He knows she’s home; she always is on Wednesday nights. 

But seconds later, the door opens, and there is she is, already dressed for bed in an old Metallica t-shirt and ratty sweats. Her big green eyes stare at him, taking in his stance and the dark expression on his face as he eyes her from head to toe. Maker, he really has to take her shopping for some lingerie — but the truth is that she could be wearing a sack and it wouldn’t matter to him, not on nights like this.

He doesn’t say hi. He doesn’t smile. Instead, his mouth crashes down on hers as he shoves her back into the apartment and slams the door behind them. He grabs her arms and whirls them around until he’s  pinned her to the door with the weight of his body. She’s so warm and soft against him, an instant balm on his frayed nerves.

“Cullen,” she tries to say in between devouring kisses. “What —“

He thrusts his tongue into her mouth to shut her up. Talking is not what he needs tonight. She knows it, too, and quickly gets with the program, wrapping her arms around his neck to dig her fingers in his short blond hair and hitching one long leg around his hip. He helps her out by getting a hand under her thigh and lifting it until it’s settled right above his hipbone; it’s the perfect spot for grinding his cock right against her tight little cunt.

Maker, she’s drenched already; he can feel her wet heat through her sweats and the jeans he wears.  Always so ready for him. For whatever he wants. That’s why he knows that he can just show up here on nights when the call of that damn lyrium syringe has wrapped around his mind like a snake and is squeezing until he’s shivering with it. On nights when his job working security for stuck-up nobles who think that fetching them things is part of his job description grates on his last nerve.

Cullen slides his hand under her t-shirt and palms her naked breasts. Her breath hitches, and she’s arching into him, her long hair flowing behind her in mahogany waves. Ah, yes, she loves it when he plays with her nipples — this isn’t beneficial for him only, he makes it worth her while. His mouth leaves hers to trail nipping kisses along her jawline and down her long white neck. Her skin, delicate and unmarred, tastes of peaches with a  hint of citrus and he inhales her scent, lets it fill his nostrils and suffuse through his aching brain.

He drags the neckline of her t-shirt down to give him more access to her skin and glides his mouth over her flesh,  leaving a wet trail on her upper chest,  She moans and grinds up against him, drawing a sharp intake of breath from him. He grabs the fabric of her shirt and gives it a sharp downward tug. The sound of the fabric ripping sounds loud in the silence of the apartment, but it gets the job done because he’s looking down at her perfect and unfettered breasts, large enough to fill his palm nicely and tipped with small pink nipples.

“Maker, you’re so fucking beautiful.” 

Cullen bends his head to take one in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around it and nibbles at it with his teeth.  She shivers and bucks her hips against him again. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of her sweats and yanks them down with her underwear. He steps back from her so that he can pull them all the way off her long, gorgeous alabaster legs.

She’s always had the best legs, going all the way back to when she was at Redcliffe High School, and he was a young Templar stationed at the Kinloch Hold Base. He remembers picking her up from cheerleader practice, her all bubbly and babbling about what happened that day, but he’d only had eyes for those beautiful legs peeking out of that damned-too-short skirt. 

“So ready for me,” he murmurs, running his fingers over her moist cleft, denuded of hair except for a thin strip over her pubic mound.  Maker, he doesn’t have to touch her to know how wet she is; he can see the moisture coating her outer lips. It’s shining in the dim lamplight, and it’s the sexiest fucking thing he’s ever seen. He drops his head to kiss her again, slanting his mouth over hers and sucking on her upper lip over and over again. Her fingers get busy working the buttons on his shirt.

Cullen takes a step back and chuckles, low and throaty. “Want this off, do you, minx?”  

“Oh, yes, Commander,” she purrs, running her hands over the hair-roughened skin of his muscular chest as she exposes it. He frowns at her use of his old title, but all thought vanishes when she reaches into his shirt to pinch a nipple.  He hisses and moans, his head thrown back and she does it again, ripping another guttural groan from him. He doesn’t know how,  but he gathers enough of his wits together to help her get his shirt the rest of the way open.  He shrugs out of it, tossing it carelessly behind him, then goes to work on his pants.

Finally, he’s naked too, and he pushes her back against the door, continuing to assault her mouth with searing kisses. Using his shoulders for purchase, she jumps up and wraps her legs around his waist, making him groan into her mouth as her core comes into contact with his throbbing cock.

One hand brushes up his neck and plays with the short golden strands there. She leans up and her hot breath ghosts over his ear as she whispers “Fuck me, Cullen.” Her words light up his spine, sizzling along his every nerve ending until they reach his sex. He rolls his hips against her, feels her moist heat on his cock, and he can’t take it anymore. Cullen slides his hands down her sides until they reach her hips. He grabs them and holds her still while he finds her entrance and thrusts himself home with a long, hoarse groan.

“Maker, this is just what I need,” he growls, “so tight, so fucking perfect.” And she is — she’s always been perfect, fitting him like a glove, always uncomplaining no matter how rough he gets with her. After taking a moment to savor the feeling of her inner walls around him, he starts to move. He rolls his hips back, sliding out partway and then snaps them forward, drilling her into the door.

Her back slams against the wood and she moans, clutching at him with both arms and legs, wrapping around him like an octopus.  She bites his throat, and he welcomes the scrape of her teeth. He knows he’ll have marks there in the morning, but he doesn’t care.

“You like this, don’t you, love?”He snaps his hips forward again, and she mewls, her fingernails scraping across the skin of his back. “Mm, yes, you love it; me so deep inside you neither of us can tell where I end and you begin.”

She cries out his name over and over again as he’s relentlessly pounding into her;  he wants to bury himself so deep inside her that for a moment, just one fucking moment, his body doesn’t crave the euphoria of the blue liquid in a syringe, a needle in his arm. He craves a new euphoria — the nirvana he finds when he’s balls-deep inside this woman.

“Cullen, oh, sweet Maker, Cullen, fuck me harder,” she begs, and it’s just what he wants to hear. She always knows what he needs. He shifts his angle so that he’s fucking up into her, his hands squeezing her pert ass. She wails so loud that he’s sure the entire building can hear her, and maybe the people passing by on the street can, too.

“That’s it, sweetling, let them know who’s fucking you,” he rumbles, a smug masculine pride overtaking his better senses. “For tonight, you belong to me!”

And, Andraste preserve him, he thinks she might kill him tonight because wetness floods her quim and her walls are closing around him with every upward thrust, gripping his cock, milking him for all she’s worth. Her hands rove over the muscles of his back, the hard planes of his chest, bringing his skin to life with her touch. That’s his Evie — she gives as good as she gets.

He brings up one hand to fist in her lustrous hair and leans into her face, golden eyes locking on green.  His nose brushes hers, and he shuts his eyes as he comes in for another kiss,  sinking his mouth onto hers. She reciprocates, opening for him and making a needful sound into his mouth. His pulse thrumming in his throat, he licks her upper lip, sliding his tongue inside her mouth to run it over her front teeth.   

Cullen grunts as she tremors against him and clutches at him _everywhere_. She envelops him and welcomes him, no matter how long it’s been since the last time; she’s never denied him, and he’s so fucking grateful for that.  He can never tell her how thankful he is for her, but he thinks she knows.  At least he hopes she does.

“Are you close?” his voice is sepulchral, even lower than his normal register. He shuts his eyes and hopes she is because he’s not going to last much longer.

“Cullen, just let it go,”  her lips are charting a path along his jawline back to his mouth where she licks at the scar at the upper corner of his lips. “I can help myself along.” She presses his lips with shallow, nipping kisses as her hand slides to where they’re joined. Then this girl —  Maker, this woman  — gives her nub a few flicks of her fingers, and she’s spasming around him. “Cullennnn,” she shrieks, “I’m there….let it go…” her voice trails off into indecipherable cries of pleasure. And that’s all it takes for him to lose all control.

“Fuck, Evie!” he bellows as his eyes roll back in his head and his body starts to tremble. He’s blind with it as his orgasm washes over him. He spills deep within her, helpless to do more than cling to her, tucking his face in her neck. Every nerve ending in his body pulses with pleasure — Maker, it feels so good, so bloody good; it washes all the tension from his body, leaving him pleasantly exhausted as it drains away.

How long he stands there, his deflating cock still inside her, he doesn’t know. Dimly aware that he’s still got her pinned to the door, he wraps his arms around her back to support her as he carries her to her bedroom. Gently, he sets her down on the bed and stretches out at her side. He thinks that he should probably get a towel or something so that they can clean themselves up, but he’s completely spent, so he just wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her into him, her back to his front. Her body is slightly stiff; he knows she has questions, but Maker, right now all he wants is to sleep.

“Cullen?” her voice is almost a whisper.

“Mm?”

“Are — are you okay?”

A heavy sigh leaves him. She always does this, and it’s both adorable for her caring and annoying because he can’t deal with explanations now. “I’m fine, love — just exhausted. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

“Oh. Okay,” she sounds uncertain but snuggles into him anyway. And those are the last words he hears before dropping off into the oblivion of sleep where no nightmares will find him.

 

 ~fin~

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm on Tumblr at Windysuspirations.tumbr.com if you'd like to follow me there. I post Cullen shit all the time because I'm stuck in Cullen-hell.


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